Sunderland Secrets
"Shipyard welder Nneka's work is hard—but the thick Congolese engineer who joins the team makes every shift easier in ways that aren't in the job description."
The shipyard was rough.
Men who thought women didn't belong. Work that broke backs.
Then Amari arrived—thick, confident, Congolese, and utterly unimpressed by the men.
"You're good," she told Nneka after watching her weld. "Very precise."
"Thanks."
"I'd like to see your other skills. After shift."
The break room was empty at midnight.
"I've worked in shipyards across Africa," Amari said. "Never met anyone like you."
"Like how?"
"Strong. Skilled. Beautiful." She moved closer. "I notice things others don't."
"What have you noticed about me?"
"That you're lonely. Like me."
The welding mask came off first.
Then everything else.
Against lockers and tool racks, two strong women found softness in each other.
"This is unexpected," Nneka admitted.
"The best things always are."
Amari's thick body was a landscape of muscle and curve.
Years of hard work had shaped something magnificent. Nneka explored every inch.
"I didn't know I needed this," she said.
"Neither did I." Amari kissed her forehead. "But here we are."
The shipyard never knew.
Two professionals, brilliant at their work, keeping secrets after hours.
"Same time tomorrow?" Amari asked.
"Every day."
Sunderland's ships were built by skilled hands.
Some of those skills, they learned, weren't on any resume.